Tuesday, February 24, 2009

My Short Story : "Aasia" - Hope

Screams of Khadija’s voice permeated the border line. People did not even bother helping poor, pregnant Khadjia and her son, Hafeez, as they watched her husband get shot. This was the usual occurrence which happened at the borders of Tajikistan, so no person wanted to get involved.

It all began the day this Tajik family received their immigration papers. Khadija, her husband, Mustafa, and her son, Hafeez, were in the midst of migrating to Montreal, Canada, to start a new life. They were so ecstatic since they had received their immigration papers to move to Montreal. Soon, the negative aspects of their home country would be left behind and a new life would be made in Canada, with new foundations forming. As they packed their belongings, Khadija explained to her five year old son the importance of the move.
“Hafeez, you know how difficult it is for all of us to move but I promise you we will have a much happier life there and you will make so many more friends.”

Hafeez was sad and did not understand what was going on, he was too fidgety to even listen to his mother for a full two minutes. Instead of giving his mum a proper response he started talking about other unimportant things.
“Can I take my toy bear with me?” Shouting this, he eagerly awaited an answer.

He was purely concerned only about the friends he would have to leave behind and the toys he would no longer play with. He told his mum how he would miss walking through the market buying fruits each morning with her. Regardless, his mother assured him that bigger and brighter things awaited him in Montreal.
The next evening, two days before Khadija and her family were leaving; she held a dinner gathering at her house. She invited all their family and friends. In a way, they were all jealous because this family had a chance to leave legally instead of escaping illegally, but then again they were also very happy for them.

“You will write to us, wont you?” Cried Khadija’s aunt.
“Of course we will!” Exclaimed Mustafa. “Our roots are here and maybe one day we will all return to a safer Tajikistan.”
“Inshallah” Shouted the rest of the family.

During dinner, the families pondered and conversed about memories of Tajikistan. Soon after, the guests began leaving and said their goodbyes.

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Mustafa, Khadija and Hafeez made their way to the border, where they had to wait for clearance in order to get to the other side.

“I’m hungry!” Cried Hafeez. Khadija pulled out some snacks from her bag.
It was a hot humid morning and she, being only three months pregnant, was still encountering morning sickness.

“Take a seat, I will go get some water for you.” Mustafa said to Khadija.

As he began walking, Khadija turned to Hafeez and caressed him on his head. All of a sudden, the loud sound of gunshot was heard throughout the area. Everyone fell to the ground, in fright. Khadija’s heart stopped for a minute and as she turned with Hafeez tightly held against her chest, she noticed Mustafa lying on the ground, as blood gushed out of his body.

The eagerness burned through her to yell for her husband but she knew she couldn’t, for Hafeez and for her safety. As the shooting ceased, crowds gathered around the bodies. A young man and his wife were walking through towards the exit of the border when Khadjia asked the woman if the man, closest to them, lying on the ground was dead. The woman nodded and walked on with her husband. At this point, her family name was called by the immigration services officer. She didn’t know what else to do, she had to leave Mustafa behind in order to sacrifice for the betterment of her son and unborn child’s futures. It was now or never. She grabbed Hafeez and ran towards the immigration officer who escorted her and her son across the border into a bus.

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The bus took the people to a nearby airport where they embarked on their planes towards Montreal.

“Could this really be happening?” Thought Khadjia.

She had to deal with her husband just being shot dead in front of her, and now the responsibility of looking after her son, Hafeez, and her unborn child all by herself. She had no one. No one to lean on. No one to cry to. No one to speak to. No one. Khadjia felt her world falling apart at that very moment, but she knew she had to be very strong and pull herself together for the sake of the rest of her family. As they landed at the Montreal airport, they were greeted by a relative of a close friend who they stayed with for a month. The family had told her how lucky she was to have reached safely, because the events of 9/11 had just passed that month. She told them of the painful ordeal she had to go through and about Mustafa’s death. They were very sympathetic to her and opened their house to her and Hafeez for as long as they needed. Khadija was then put in touch with a social worker who helped her tremendously into setting up her new life in Montreal. They eventually moved out and found a place of their own and with the help of the government the rent for the apartment was subsidized. Khadija knew that she had to work twice as hard without Mustafa, she immediately enrolled Hafeez in school and began looking for work. As soon she would be supporting a new member in the family – her unborn child.

Three weeks later, she was fortunate enough to find a job at a car dealership where her duties were mainly to do with the filing department, so it was easier on her health. Khadija’s pregnancy was taking a toll on her as it was her last trimester and she was facing the winter months. With the help of her new friends, Khadjia would make her way to work until the last days of her pregnancy. The day had now come where she rushed to the hospital to give birth. Tears ran down Khadija’s face as she starred at her new born, baby girl, who looked just like her husband, Mustafa.

“What do you want to name your baby sister?” Khadija asked Hafeez.
He replied innocently and said “Aasia.” With the name Aasia meaning ‘hope’, Khadija agreed for she knew that only hope for a better future, had brought her to Canada.

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